Quirky Romantic Queries about Love
by Secretlyawhale
Summary: A series of Jelsa one-shots with a mixed bag of genres. [JackxElsa]. Other pairings and characters may appear but main focus will be on Jack and Elsa.
1. Chapter 1 I Will Be

The sky was a canvas of brilliant blues and off whites, fluffy clouds dangling on invisible threads, moving along with the breeze.

He pushed past the crowd, his worn out pair of Converse dragging along on the clean pavement, snow white hair ruffled and messy after uncountable times running his hands through them in frustration.

_Fuck…._

_Fuck it! Damn it!_

"Sir?"

He whipped his head around at the gentle sound, meeting a young lady's gaze.

_No, no, no, no….._ All his problems came washing back over him like a huge wave at the sight of a young lady, the weight of them barely bearable on his shoulders.

"Sir?" She looked at him in concern, her grip on the stack of flyers tightening just a little bit.

He stopped and turned around. He raised an eyebrow, a scowl on his face.

"Would you care to donate some money to help raise funds for Autism? We are currently-"

"Fuck off." He turned away and began to walk.

"Excuse me, sir-" She started talking again after pausing for a moment.

"I said," He took a deep breath and turned towards her. "Fuck. Off."

She pressed her lips together in a thin line as he stormed away.

* * *

Jack fell on to the sofa, television remote in hand, the other hand somewhere inside his hair, pushing them back and forth, back and forth, in an attempt to calm his nerves.

His life has never been happy or easy, but now it was just plain unbearable. Everything he's known is now crashing down, leaving him all alone with no support, in the middle of a pile of shattered dreams he once called his life.

Cans of cheap alcohol were piled on an old coffee table, stubborn stains scarring it forever.

Just like how he felt now.

Disgusted.

He didn't know how long the doorbell had been ringing, because with the TV blaring and his half-drunken state, it could've been anywhere from 2 minutes to 2 hours.

He half walked, half dragged himself to the door, leaning on the doorknob before giving it a pull.

The blonde from this morning stood there, in her ponytail and work clothes. A faint trace of makeup on her face, barely noticeable.

He rolled his eyes. "I told you-"

"I know." She smiled. "I know. I just came to give you this." She handed him a small plastic card.

His Identity card.

"Yeah, you dropped it back there, and I'm not a stalker by the way. Your address is here, so I…yeah." She slipped her fingers inside the pockets of her pants.

"Er…yeah. Thanks."

The silence hung over them awkwardly, but she just stood there, like she didn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

Perhaps it was his drunken state, or maybe it was because he was too desperate for human company that he agreed when she asked for permission to enter his house.

"So, you live here?" She planted herself carefully on the sofa, not seeming to mind the dirty surroundings of what he would call a house, but in actual fact was a large shack.

"No, this is just my private wine cellar."

He heard her laugh for the first time, a peculiar sound he hasn't heard for ages now.

They talked for an hour or so, then she left.

After that particular meeting, she came back every Tuesday or Thursday, sometimes staying for three hours, sometimes just for fifteen minutes. It became a sort of drug for him, a few moments where he could forget about his own life and problems, an just be…normal.

Just be normal again.

* * *

"So, what's your hobby?" Elsa suddenly asked one day, while she was sitting on the sofa, amongst cans of cheap beer on the stained coffee table.

"My hobby?" He sat up straight and smirked. "Well, it's embarrassing." He ran his fingers through his hair.

She grinned, her blue eyes twinkling. "I'm sure it's not _that_ embarrassing."

He let out a light chuckle. "I always wanted to pursue singing as a career."

She laughed. He looked at her in amusement. "What?"

"It's not embarrassing at all." She smoothed down her hair. "I'm a singer myself." The pride in her eyes was unmistakable.

"Are you sure? You probably couldn't hold a note for three seconds by the looks of it." She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "You little…"

"I was just joking. You are by _far_, the _best_ singer in the history of the _best_ singers in the hist-"

"Shut up, Jack. What about you? You're not a singer, are you? At least I got my dream." She looked at him challengingly.

"Cut me some slack, I'm-" He paused, the lump in his throat was swelling, threatening to choke him. His past haunted him every day, but it didn't make it any less painful. All the colour drained from his face.

"Jack?" Her voice was softer now, gentle. As if she was approaching a wounded animal.

He was a wounded animal. Small, weak and helpless. Vulnerable. So vulnerable.

"Nothing!" He sucked in a breath, not wanting to lose his cool in front of Elsa like he did that morning. "Nothing, really."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" He tugged at his hair. "Yes, yes. I'm fine. You can leave now if you want."

"I don't want to leave." She took a deep breath, and sat there, not moving an inch.

"Leave now. Please."

He sat there crouched on his knees, face hidden behind his hands. After a couple of minutes, she left without a sound.

* * *

Perhaps it was his drunken state, or maybe it was because he was too desperate for human company that he dialed her number in the middle of the night.

It was probably three or four in the morning, but she still picked up.

"Hello?"

"Elsa?"

She paused for a while.

"Yeah? Jack?"

"Could you come over?"

She was at his doorstep in ten minutes. She was in a simple T-shirt and shorts, her hair loose with no makeup on.

She was still so beautiful.

He was at his usual spot on the sofa, hands running through his hair. He couldn't hold it all in for much longer.

"Elsa," He croaked and the tears started to fall, all running loose like a broken dam.

He told her all about his father, Nick, who was trafficking young, unsuspecting girls from all around the world from different countries for his prostitution business. His mother was a victim. She thought Nick was different, that Nick actually loved her, only after did she get pregnant with him and his sister did she know he only thought of her as his slave.

His mother died shortly after, sick and too poor to afford treatment. He and his sister relied on each other since then. His father was nowhere to be seen after that.

On that fateful morning when he met Elsa for the first time, was when his father came back all of a sudden, asking Jack to help him. _Forcing_ Jack to help him with the business.

"Did you?" Elsa looked at him.

"No." Jack sighed and tugged on his shirt.

"Then it's okay, everything will be okay."

"It's not okay. He's threatening to kill my sister if I don't help him in his dirty work."

He just dropped the bomb. He knew it.

However nice Elsa was, she'll never look at him in the same way again.

Pity.

In her eyes, that's what he'll see every single time.

Pity.

That was when she kissed him. Just a quick peck on the cheek.

"I don't want your pity." He smiled. Just a ghost of a smile, disappearing as quickly as it came.

"I don't pity you." She looked determined. "You are the strongest person I have ever met in my life."

"You don't mind?" He was approaching dangerous ground, every step could possibly mean the end of the only relationship he had with anyone other than his sister.

"Mind? Mind what?" She raised an eyebrow.

"That I'm from this background. That I'm _still_ in this background." He looked down at his bare feet.

"No. Not at all." She smiled.

For the first time in a long time. He laughed. A genuine, happy laugh.

* * *

**That's it :) Hope you enjoyed it and thank you again for reading this.**

**If you liked it please follow, favourite and comment :) it really means a lot to me.**

**I'll be trying out all kinds of genres if possible, so it won't always be this heavy and maybe more fluff next time:3 If you have any suggestions or criticism, feel free to let me know:)**

**Peace out, Secretlyawhale**


	2. Chapter 2 Something that we're not

**A/N: A big thank you to Trapid, Guest 1, Guest 2 and Guest 3 for leaving such lovely reviews :) and to those who followed and favourited this story, it really means the world to me ;) This story is dedicated to you guys.**

**I don't own ROTG or Frozen.**

**Enjoy:)**

* * *

Elsa's Point of View:

I have a truckload of problems and issues to attend to, and a certain issue regarding Jack Frost is definitely _not_ at the top of my priority list.

But it does try to sneak up and stand out in my train of thought.

Just occasionally. I don't like to waste my time, especially over the subject of the opposite gender that girls seem to swoon about every day.

_Okay_, so it's been getting pretty frequent lately, and I-

"Elsa! Are you listening to me?" A pair of warm green eyes instantly appear in front of me, a glint of amusement crossing them.

I got a feeling I know where this is going.

"What's up with you Elsie? Something to do with, oh I don't know," She smirks, "Jack?"

"I highly doubt that." I dip my spoon in a cup of cold coffee, stirring absentmindedly.

"Ooooh! You're in love! Elsa Winters is _in love_!"

"Those childish manners of yours never seem to change."

"You. Are. In. Love. Just admit it! El-"

"No I'm not. Love isn't something to toy around with and throw to whoever you think seems to entertain you at the moment. It isn't supposed to be confused with infatuations that you seem to have with many guys but yet still call it true love. Also-"

"Gosh, Elsa! Stop sounding so old! I'm just saying. Geez." She rolls her eyes.

"Then it's all well." I smile and sip my coffee.

"But he's in love with you all right." It barely escaped her lips, something between a mumble and a whisper. I was about to correct her when I thought otherwise.

I allowed myself a small, very small smile.

Jack's Point of View:

I have a truckload of problems and issues to attend to, but a certain issue regarding Elsa Winter's is _definitely_ at the top of my priority list.

Yeah, she had been cute all along since we we're kindergarten friends, and I don't know how or when but she's getting _seriously_ beautiful.

My mother once told me girls start to take a liking towards guys at around puberty, something about hormones and stuff. Problem is I've been waiting for three years, and Elsa doesn't seem to find me any more interesting, or anyone else for that matter.

I guess it's good and bad.

I've tried every trick in the book, from dinner dates to pick up lines with One Direction lyrics, and she pretty much just blinked.

This will be my last chance to get her, _that is_ if she even agrees to go out with me.

I shake my head to clear my mind. Positive thoughts, confidence in motion. Clean fingernails…

Let's do it.

I push open the glass doors of the ice skating rink, carefully gliding across the ice towards her. She looked stunning in a knee length dress, violets and blues bringing out her cornflower eyes. She was immersed in song, earphones plugged in, oblivious to the crowd.

Trying my best not to slip and fall, I succeed in getting across the rink safely with normal speed.

"Hey, uh…Elsa?" I tap her shoulder lightly.

My stomach does a somersault and my mind goes blank when she looks at me, slightly shocked and confused.

Get it together Jack.

"Er, Elsa? I wanted to ask you if you'd like to have dinner with me tonight, at seven?"

Her pale cheeks turned a light pink, which looks adorable.

Wait, is she turning red 'cause she's mad at me? Shoot. Have I been asking her out so much she finds it annoying? Poop. Poop, poop, poop, poop.

She nods. "Yeah. Okay."

I finally breathe again and break out into a smile. "Great. I'll see you at your house this evening."

I leave, a silly grin plastered all over my face.

Elsa's Point of View:

The butterflies in my stomach haven't faded since an hour ago when he asked me out on a date.

My cheeks felt warm then, was I blushing? No. No, no, no, no.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Okay Elsa. Get ready now.

I took a warm shower just now, bath robe draped on my shoulders, I continued staring at my wardrobe.

Why is it that I can't find a single garment to wear when I have a closet full of clothes and dresses for formal occasions? Isn't all this worrying only experienced by those girly girls that spend all their time with their boyfriends? What is happening to me?

I sit down and breathe. I feel a headache coming up. And dizziness.

_It's just a stupid date, Elsa. Get your act together! Geez._

I decide to put up my hair in an elegant crown bun, but it looked too serious.

I let it down, it looked too casual.

A ponytail? Nope. Always hated those.

The headache was starting to worsen. I went to the bathroom and ran freezing cold water all over my face until it was numb. Much better now.

I stole a glance at the clock.

Oh my god. 7 more minutes until seven. Oh my god.

I grabbed the first dress from the right and expertly put my hair into a French braid, even though he saw me just now in this hairstyle.

_What if he thinks I didn't bathe because my hair looks the same?_

A steady knock came from downstairs. Oh just wonderful.

No time for makeup. I grabbed a purse and dashed down the staircase.

My face is sickeningly pale and numb, clean of makeup, my hair is in a boring old braid and I'm 3 minutes late.

Flustered. I am flustered.

Jack's Point of View:

She walks down the stairs gracefully, although she almost tripped over something. Her skin was almost translucent. She looked wonderful, perfect as usual.

I tugged on the edges of my button down shirt. Did I look bad?

"Hi, Elsa." I smiled, "You look beautiful."

She nodded politely and stepped into the car. Was she annoyed again? Her cheeks were colouring…What did I do wrong _again_?

Small talk was never my forte, and she didn't seem like she wanted to talk. She constantly looked outside the window, last time I checked there was nothing interesting outside.

* * *

This is it.

I've practiced this mini speech a million times since two years back already, and I wasn't going to fail it now at this key opportunity.

It's now or never.

I've asked her to be my girlfriend four times already since I started to fall head over heels for her three years back. If she refuses again this time, I'll certainly back off and leave her alone.

It's just…I don't know. Devastating? Heartbreaking? Soul-crushing? if she doesn't.

I hope she does though.

She was eating a small spoonful of ice cream from the glass bowl. She caught me staring, a pair of cornflower blue orbs quickly looking back down at her ice cream.

Do I really want to do this?

She was quiet and somewhat lacks a sense of humour. She was cold, classy and beautiful, a perfect ice queen.

But from the way she treats her sister, the only person I'm certain she loves, I know she'll love you unconditionally if you love her too. She's warm inside. I'm sure of it.

I'm sure I love her.

"El-"

"Could you pass me the tissues, please?" almost immediately, she apologises. "I'm sorry, what did you want to say?"

I pushed over the small plate of napkins and placed both hands on the table. I will not fidget while asking her this. I will not.

Somehow I found myself tugging the edges of my shirt.

"Elsa Winters,"

Elsa's Point of View:

I look up at Jack, he was handsome tonight with his slightly messy snow white hair as always. The butterflies were threatening to flip my stomach over already.

But I think I could actually like this feeling.

"I know I've asked you many times, and this will be the last time I'll bother you ever again if you want it that way. I haven't the ability to exactly know what love is, but I'm pretty sure what I feel towards you is indeed love. And as the famous-" He suddenly stopped dead. Like he forgot what to say.

He looked lost and a little panicked. Like a school boy who forgot his homework.

"You forgot your script?" I grin.

He scratches the back of his neck, his head lowered sheepishly. He wasn't looking my way but I could see the devastated look on his face.

He looked…really, really sad.

It's been three years. He's never stopped chasing me since he confessed his love for me during senior year in high school, in front of everyone at graduation day.

I rejected him, and the look he has now on his face was somehow more heartbreaking than how I felt that day for destroying his pride.

I've always loved him as a friend, but lately…It's been a lot of stomach flipping and butterflies and blushing. Those mini heart attacks when he sends me a text, hours of preparing for his dates when I couldn't care less just a year back.

I'm confused.

I'm feeling helpless and confused.

Love is more complex than any college course I've ever taken. I can't even come up with a passable metaphor at the moment.

Flustered. Again

"Elsa, I'm sorry about this, because it's really lame. I just want to ask you to be-"

"Yes."

My cheeks burned instantly, a slip of the tongue causing havoc through my brain, heart racing, palms sweating.

Shoot.

"Really?" His eyes lit up like a child's on Christmas morning, full of hope and joy.

I don't know why, but I started giggling. Me, Elsa Winters, giggling.

"Can I kiss you?"

Our lips only met for a brief moment of total perfection, a warm stirring in my chest, his lips warm and secure.

Tonight was perfect.

Flustered, yet perfect.

Jack's Point of View:

When we pulled away, her cheeks were coloured.

I got a feeling she's blushing.

* * *

**That was...awkward.**

**This whole story is awkward XD I wanted to write humour but I don't really find this funny, so I'll say it's an awkward romantic one-shot lol:D**

**Hope you liked this lots and please leave a review, follow and favourite if you did:)**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~Peace out, Secretlyawhale**


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